A Love Story

There was a stunned silence. Qingqing, who had been watching curiously, drew in her breath sharply and clicked her tongue. "Ah, this stupid woman," she muttered in annoyance. "I should have thrown a dead rat at her. Or a frog. A lizard is letting her off far too easily."

The woodcutter's head jerked up and he met Mao Xiang's challenging gaze. The air grew thick with tension.

Xiaoqing felt a grudging admiration for the woodcutter's steadfastness, even in the humiliation he was undergoing. His face did not show any change of expression, and there was a kind of quiet dignity in its plain features.

She also felt a nagging sense of guilt, which she promptly quashed. "Who asked him to be right there, and who asked that evil woman to pick on him, of all people? It's not my fault. His shoulders are broad enough to take it."

A thought suddenly hit her and she gave a bark of irritation. "If he kneels to that big-headed little bitch and gives in to her, I'll die of vexation! I won't stand to see her get her way, even if it means I have to intervene. Fine. He'd better be grateful to me for saving him."

Getting up, she leaped down the roof onto the alley and slipped into the street, coming up unnoticed behind them.

Xiaoqing's high clear voice cut through the tension like a knife, sounding all the more out of place for its sing-song, flirtatious tone.

"Xianggong! Husband!"

Skipping up to the woodcutter, she took his arm and leaned her head against him in an intimate gesture. The woodcutter jumped and made to push her off but she clung on doggedly. "Behave, you fool!" Qingqing snapped under her breath.

Mao Xiang's eyebrows rose considerably and the crowd whispered excitedly.

Xiaoqing's face took on an expression of pious horror. "Ah, Miss Mao, won't you leave us alone? I thought I was miserable enough having to deal with your anger this morning, who would have thought I would be unlucky enough to bump into you again?"

She looked up at the woodcutter. "Dearest, are you hurt?"

The woodcutter's eyes popped. Xiaoqing pinched him nastily as he tried to wriggle out of her grasp.

With a deep sigh, she let the tears gather slowly in her eyes. "Ah, what an unlucky maiden I am! To have won the love of a man that Miss Mao also favours!"

Mao Xiang gasped with outrage. The crowd buzzed.

Xiaoqing dabbed at her eyes, sniffing gently. "I know that I am nothing compared to the venerable miss, but my beloved only has eyes for me. Miss Mao hates me; I understand." She turned to Mao Xiang with quivering lips. "Miss Mao. I don't complain that you find every chance to make my life miserable, and to bully me, to get revenge for your frustration and your thwarted, one-sided love. I don't complain that you followed me this morning and went out of your way to humiliate me. Would you believe, everyone," she turned to the crowd appealingly, "that when I wanted to buy a jade pendant, Miss Mao snatched it from me--and broke it on the ground? Simply to vent her anger at being spurned." She held out the broken pieces of jade with a flourish, and the crowd pressed forward to see, murmuring in sympathy.

Letting the pieces fall, she faced Mao Xiang. "Miss Mao--I don't complain of that. I know how spiteful and furious you must be that despite your fancy clothes and jewelry, despite your family's prestige, you've fallen for a lowly woodcutter, who has no eyes for you. That you would go out of your way to bully me, I can say nothing. I am, after all, only a poor commoner like all these good people here--nothing compared to you, as you are always reminding me. However--"

The crowd gasped as she fell on her knees. "Miss Mao," Qingqing said with a sob in her throat that nevertheless did not prevent her voice from being heard in the entire street, "I beg of you, please do not make life difficult for him. He is, after all, the man you love to distraction, even if he does not care for you. No matter how jealous and spiteful you feel for being rejected, do not vent your anger on him." She beat her chest passionately, as if her heart was about to burst. "I won't complain if you humiliate me," she said tearfully, "I won't complain if you jeer at me, or even send men to beat me up and throw me into the river like you keep threatening to; but I beg of you, leave him alone."

A well-timed tear trickled down her cheek and she uttered a choking sound, lips quivering. The crowd erupted, emboldened by numbers; after all, how could Mao Yuan catch a mere voice in a crowd? Mao Xiang's bad temper and spoilt ways were well-known, and they were eager for some juicy scandal.

"So that's the truth! Miss Mao is hiding a one-sided love for a woodcutter!" giggled a young girl to her lover.

"You shouldn't bully the innocent couple just to vent your frustration, Miss, what a low thing to do!"

"Ah, a rejected woman in love makes a fearsome enemy; regardless of what class they come from!"

"Look at those eyes on her, pure murder. I'd hate to be in that poor girl's shoes. What a shame, and it's not their fault either. They must be living in terror because of her." A burly fishwife carrying a basket of eels shook her head with a sigh, looking at Xiaoqing's tear-stained, innocent face.

Enraged, Mao Xiang finally found her voice, but it was too late. "You dare, spreading filthy gossip about me!" she gasped. "I'll have you killed. I'll cut off those lying lips, and have you--"

The crowd booed her noisily. "Ah, what a poisonous woman! Even if she's your rival in love you can't make threats like that," the fishwife boomed, and there was a chorus of fervent agreement from the crowd. "Ay, Miss, what a shame! A highborn lady like you, talking like a moneylender or a common thug!"

XIaoqing let her eyes twinkle through their tears as she got up and took the woodcutter's arm again coyly.

"Miss Mao, before the presence of all these witnesses I hold you accountable for my plea. Don't deny the only wish of a poor girl who can never hope to fight back. We are, after all--" she paused dramatically, "--married!"

There was a sensation.

She bowed her head modestly. "Though you may have fallen irrevocably for him, he is still my husband. Besides the sincere love we have for each other, the vows of marriage bind us. Our love is pure and true. Please, forget--"

She hesitated, then jabbed the woodcutter in the ribs sharply. "Your name!" she whispered behind her sleeve, feigning to wipe her eyes.

He stared at her.

"Your name, idiot!" Qingqing hissed through gritted teeth, hurriedly adopting a storm of sobs to cover the awkward pause.

"My name is Yuanzheng," he said confusedly.